‘Nosferatu’ is so much more than horny: A short history of vampire media and what it REALLY represents

Since its box office debut on Christmas day, Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu has conjured discourse from all corners of the web, even amongst die-hard gothic horror fans. The heart of the matter? The film’s true meaning.

Spoiler warning: This article contains heavy plot spoilers for Nosferatu (2024).

Content warning: This articles contains mentions of rape, childhood sexual abuse, and sexual trauma.

While it’s not uncommon for horror fans to find themselves at odds in their interpretations of the overarching themes of Eggers’ previous works—including The Witch, The Lighthouse, and The Northman—his reimagining of Nosferatu has awakened perhaps the most divisive viewer response yet, with audience members split between literal and metaphorical understandings of its major themes.

This has raised a handful of questions: Is Nosferatu a steamy, gothic love story for BookTok to devour? Is it a film about a young bride grappling with the reality of her sexual trauma as a result of childhood abuse? Or does Ellen’s connection to Orlok parallel a desire borne of a lonely upbringing and exacerbated by a conditioned sense of shame during an era in which hysteria diagnoses were still unnervingly common? In short, all can be true at once.

Eggers’ Nosferatu follows Ellen Hutter (Lily-Rose Depp), who calls upon the vampire formally known as Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård) in her youth and is possessed at her coming of age, symbolizing a sexual awakening that also implies an aspect of grooming. Newly married to Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult) in 1838 Germany, Ellen’s symptoms of possession have subsided to recurring nightmares, which gradually worsen when her husband is sent to Orlok’s castle to seal the deal on the Count’s new estate. This doesn’t go well for anyone, really.

Now at the center of a hellish “love triangle” between the ancient vampire and Thomas, in actor Lily-Rose Depp’s words, Ellen is subjected to all manner of futile medical treatments. We watch her writhe and moan each time she’s inevitably overtaken by the vampire’s presence. We see her visage flash before our eyes as Orlok feeds on Thomas at the castle and the Count’s image in place of her own when Thomas finally returns home to Ellen—a compelling visual metaphor often used to communicate likeness and connection.

Eberhart Von Franz, the Van Helsing-like character played by Willem Dafoe, insists Ellen is of the same “darkness” as Orlok, to which he attributes their connection. (The film’s tagline, “Succumb to the darkness” is particularly apt here.) This connection is reiterated when Ellen comes face-to-face with the Count. The vampire states it was Ellen who awakened him and ultimately refers to himself as “an appetite, nothing more.” Now, that’s a spoon-fed metaphor.

Ellen finally confesses her shame to Thomas, calling herself “unclean” and refusing her husband’s attempts at affection. In the ensuing sex scene, she repeatedly directs him to kiss her heart, and he fails to meet her demand. This is juxtaposed in the film’s culminating sex scene between Ellen and Orlok; again, she directs her lover to her heart and this time he feeds. They both die in what Eggers scripted as an “anguished and putrid ballet, climaxing” amidst the plague brought on by the vampire.

‘Nosferatu’ tackles the taboo

No matter how you slice it, Nosferatu is a film about sex, death, and shame, executed with a young woman at its center. How you interpret these taboo topics is deeply personal, but, even before Eggers sank his teeth into the story, it was widely understood to be a somewhat loose adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula, which has sparked similar debate. That said, it’s not entirely surprising the controversy continues with the release of Eggers’ lifelong labor of love. Heck, even the rats can’t escape the discourse.

What’s interesting is that, despite the 2024 horror remake’s lengthy development period, its arrival was nothing short of timely. The conversation surrounding Eggers’ Nosferatu is reflective of our current sexual culture and its nuance, complicated further by the storied history of vampires. Of our literature’s monsters, vampires have long been associated with sexual repression and parasitism in all their masks, often bound to a commentary either for or against religious traditionalism. They frequently act as the “night stalker” or “night demon” figures women have been taught to fear all their lives yet remain beloved by women and LGBTQIA+ audiences especially.

We see these tropes through a similar lens in Eggers’ Nosferatu. While vampire media has had quite the resurgence in recent years, most continue to blur some of the less hardened lines of morality and purity culture still standing today, yet none so substantial as to spur backlash amongst readers and viewers. In this case, Orlok points a sharp and inviting finger to an exit from the shame Ellen feels. He and the plague that follows personify the enormity of Ellen’s desire, as shameful as you may believe it to be, and that’s the horror of it all.